He entered the stately apartment at the top expecting to find it empty. It was the drawing-room—a vast and lofty chamber with satin-covered walls, superbly furnished with old French furniture in royal blue velvet and gilt. There was a further room beyond, but Bunny did not pursue his way thither, for a man in evening-dress turned suddenly from one of the great southward-facing windows and moved to meet him.
He was a gaunt man with a trim beard and the eyes of the sea-farer, and he walked with a slight roll as if accustomed to pitching decks.
"Sir Bernard Brian?" he said.
Bunny held out his hand. "You're Captain Larpent, of course. I wonder we've never met before. I've heard of you often enough. Sorry you had such bad luck with The Night Moth."
"Oh, damnable luck!" said the sailor gloomily.
"Still you came out of it alive," said Bunny consolingly. "And your daughter too. Things might have been worse."
Larpent grunted. "Think so?"
"She does anyway," said Bunny, with a grin.
Larpent grunted again. "Shipboard is not the place for a girl," he remarked.
"Toby seems more at home on horseback than anywhere else," said Bunny.